Can't touch this … or can you?

I had a nightmare last week about a band of zombies chasing my pregnant self down a back road chanting “feel, feel, feel.” Strange, huh? Well that’s pregnancy for you.

I am not really sure why there were zombies in my dream (FYI: I am definitely cutting out the late-night TV) but I am pretty positive that I know why they were singing in harmony about reaching out to touch my bump. That’s what’s been happening a lot lately in real life—a whole lotta bump touching.

Isn’t it the funniest thing how you can wake up one morning, look down and say, “What on Earth is that?” There it is. All of a sudden. One big, beautiful, noticeable bump. Mine has been growing in the recent weeks and is now reaching what I think is a monumental size. I’ve been recording every detail of my pregnancy in a journal and each month, I’ve been jotting down the size of my bump as compared to normal household objects. This week I looked over at my husband Brack and said, “Would you say a basketball this week?” When he laughed, “Maybe a beach ball,” I knew my belly had moved into undeniable pregnancy status. There was no more room for debate and no more questions like “Is she?” or “Isn’t she?” I was absolutely, positively expecting.

With all that showing comes lots of eager hands. I had always heard that unwelcome grabs were one of the worst parts about pregnancy. But little did I know, being the attention lover that I naturally am, that I would love and embrace the touching of the bump. It all started on a visit to my hometown in Virginia, where I was welcomed with love, hugs and tons of belly pats. To my surprise, I didn’t mind at all. To me, it felt more like a gesture of well being to the baby in my belly. As if all of those hands were sending positive thoughts and good fortune to the little one inside. I was happy to have them and the touching didn’t feel weird to me at all. The thought did cross my mind that I perhaps didn’t mind these hands because these were hands I loved and trusted and had grown up with all my life.

The real test came when while right in the middle of the bathroom line at the airport, a random lady reached right out and touched my bump. “Oh, congratulations,” she said. I waited for the reality to really sink in. I waited for the uncomfortable feeling to poke out its head. But it never came. I smiled. I was actually quite excited that someone had noticed that I was no-doubt expecting.

Since then my belly has been on a steady growth spurt and tummy touches have been on the rise. Maybe it’s the extrovert in me, or maybe it’s just the fact that I am amazed by the fact that my belly can stretch so far, but I think belly rubs are one of my favorite parts of pregnancy. I also think it’s absolutely fine if you are on the other end of the spectrum and prefer all hands to stay far away from your middle. Different strokes for different folks! And for this girl—well, you can definitely reach out and touch this.